


An Exclusive Display for Mr Eames

by 100dabbo



Series: Beautiful, Dirty, Rich [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Birthday Smut, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, M/M, Stripper!RobertFischer, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: On his 30th birthday, the boys surprise Eames with his own private show at a club.
Relationships: Eames/Robert Fischer
Series: Beautiful, Dirty, Rich [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820683
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	An Exclusive Display for Mr Eames

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cattycat1310](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattycat1310/gifts).



> Inspired by the song 'Beautiful, Dirty, Rich' by Lady Gaga, sent to me by Cattycat1310, encouraging me to write this! <3

Eames’ birthday. A day he would usually detest and avoid, pretend it didn’t even happen, but when his friends were so passionate about making it the best day of his year, he couldn’t disregard their efforts to make it special.

So, he found himself amongst them in a booth within a club, enjoying the ludicrously priced champagne in posh flute glasses and the blaring bass of the music from the main stage, a consistently humorous chatter coursing through their conversation to keep his spirits up. 

He knocked back his drink before flicking his wrist to check the time on his watch, growing fatigued from the effort it took to maintain his amused façade, and saw that it was nearing midnight. 

“There’s a whole lot of strippers around, but not a whole lot of ‘em comin’ near us, you notice that?” Arthur said, swilling the drink in his glass to feign contemplation. Cobb laughed and so did Yusuf, Eames cracking a small grin to go along with it all, glad that their booth was being avoided by the many women that were on top of the main stage, because although they were attractive, they weren’t particularly to his taste.

“Well, there’s a reason for that, Arthur,” Cobb began, earning everyone’s immediate attention, “Because we wouldn’t want our friend Eames here to be distracted from the main event, would we?” He grinned, and it seemed everyone else had a moment of realisation too, like they were remembering something they had forgotten. Everyone but Eames.

“Oh, that’s right…” Arthur smirked, lending a side eye to Eames to catch his reaction as the truth was slowly revealed to him. Though, he wasn’t yet catching on.

“What?” He asked, putting his glass back on the table and leaning back into his seat, mentally preparing himself for this reveal, whatever it was, to be shown to him.

“We have hired you your own private show…” Cobb whispered, barely maintaining a straight face as the other men laughed about it.

So, they’d had this planned from the beginning. Right. Well, Eames was already pretending to enjoy himself, and he supposed putting himself through the gruelling experience of having one of these women dance on top of him wouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

“You better thank us for it, mate! It was bloody expensive, wasn’t it boys?” Yusuf chuckled, nudging Arthur with his elbow.

“Five-hundred dollars this ran us, so you better have a good time with h—” Arthur stopped himself before he could spoil the surprise, covering his smile with his mouth before composing himself, “Well, you’ll have a good time, I’m sure…”

Eames sighed once more and finished off another glass, prompting Cobb to lean out of the booth and beckon with his hand at the other side of the club, where upon the rest of them burst into laughter once more.

After a second, a man approached their booth, his shining lips smiling as he looked at Cobb.

“Good evening, gentlemen…” He said, raising his hand to the loose chain around his neck, playing with it as his head cocked to the side to focus on Eames, “Is he ready?”

Was he ready? Could he ever be ready? Fuck it.

With eyes tracking across the other man’s body, checking out those sharp collar bones exposed beneath the deep v of his loose, silken shirt, watching his delicate fingers play with his silver chain, he shifted himself out of the booth. The other men were all still grinning, so incredibly proud of themselves with this little practical joke of theirs.

“He’s expensive, Eames, so make sure you get your money’s worth, eh?” Yusuf teased, triggering another ruckus of laughter to erupt out of the men still in the booth, expecting Eames’ immediate mortification to show as he clocked the fact that it was a _male_ stripper they had so wisely hired for such a high fee.

But Eames was anything but mortified.

As soon as the words flew out of Yusuf’s mouth, confirming that this beautiful little twink with trousers tighter than plastic around his legs and a mouth so soft and kissable that it should be criminal was _his_ stripper for the hour, he was… aroused to say the least.

He grinned, taking no diffidence in devouring in his whole form with his eyes, exciting himself at the prospect of seeing it unclothed in no time at all. 

Needless to say, this was not the reaction his friends were expecting.

“Now, gentlemen, I hope you will not be offended when I say that your friend and I will be moving into a private room…” The man said, snatching up Eames’ hand in a gentle grip, swaying it playfully as the other men nodded to allow it.

“Um, go ahead, I, uh- _we_ hope you like it…” Cobb stuttered, necking his own glass of champagne as Eames’ smile stretched wider.

And with that, the stripper spun around, still holding Eames’ hand as he walked him towards the private room.

The surreality of the situation was what was overwhelming to Eames; the bright, shining lights above the stage casting all around the room with bright, almost eye offending colours, while the bar area was packed with people and their constant chatter even as the music blasted on, each and every corner of the club plastered with semi-tasteful erotica that all lead the way to the corridor of the many private rooms.

The man leading him chose one, slipping the two of them inside and gesturing for Eames to sit in a soft velvet chair, locking the door behind him. 

The light magenta hue that cast inside of it by the lights running across the ceiling set the tone immediately that it was a place of lascivious intent. Not much else was in there besides that chair and a few more couches in the other corner of the room, a table nearby them and the whole floor being empty, presumably free for performance.

So, Eames unbuttoned his jacket as he sat down, unable to stop himself from gaping his mouth at the still clothed stripper making his way towards the table where a bucket of ice and champagne was already waiting to be poured for him.

“My name is Robert and I’ll be your performer for the next hour…” He said in his sultry tone, that voice smooth and salacious enough to turn Eames on just from the sound of it, “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re Eames.”

“That’s right…” Eames confirmed, accepting the glass that Robert passed to him, spreading his legs out to get comfortable. 

Beforehand, he was reluctantly enduring of the night, but then, as the other man’s fingers brushed against his own with sweet, fleeting contact, he was turned with buzzing anticipation for what was still yet to come. He took a cool sip of the freshly poured drink and kept himself controlled, truly unable to tear his eyes away from Robert’s face.

He’d been in his presence for the better part of five minutes and yet he was already completely enamoured with his full lips and the way they smiled, his slim waist where the silk shirt was tucked into his trousers and those seductive, blue eyes staring back at him.

Robert leant closer to him and dipped his body down to his level on that chair, his knee putting itself between Eames’ spread out thighs.

“It’s you’re birthday, isn’t it?” He whispered, tongue swiping across his upper lip, the gloss shining in the bright pink light.

“Thirtieth. Yes.” Eames replied, seeming a little too serious with his answer to the question. His eyes couldn’t help but thrift a quick glance down at the unbuttoned collar of Robert’s shirt, getting a peek at the smooth expanse of his chest as his chain swung before him.

“They say life begins at thirty…” Robert said, his hand slowly slinking across Eames’ wrist, travelling up his arm until it landed on his shoulder, “Are you ready to start living, Mr Eames?” His thumb tucked itself beneath his collar, lightly brushing against the tie around his neck.

“Absolutely.”

Without another second, Robert took himself away from the chair, bringing his phone out of his trouser pocket with a smirk.

“What type of music would you like?”

“Well, there’s only one type of music one hears in this kind of setting, isn’t there?” Eames replied, finishing the rest of his champagne, letting the bubbles fizz across his tongue as it flowed down his throat. He smiled when Robert chose a song, discarding his phone on the floor as it began to come through the speakers.

The act commenced sooner than Eames would have expected, not that he had any sort of frame of reference for this type of thing, but a soon as Robert turned around, shaking his hips to the beginning beats of the rhythm and the salacious twang of the bass beneath the melody kicking into tune, his attention was set right onto him, not prepared to leave him for a second until his time was done.

Robert turned his head, his eyes peering over his shoulder, narrowed and smouldering, unwavering focus on the man he was payed to please. With each sway of his body, each nod of his head, his lustrous hair swept across his head and his bright smile stayed wide as his hands began to trace around his body.

He’d only just begun, and Eames was already thinking about what he’d give to put his hands on those hips and smooth them over his perfect arse, slip his thumbs beneath that tight waistband just like Robert was doing in that moment, rolling his hips to the beat.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t see the way Eames was begging with his eyes for those trousers to be relieved from his gorgeous legs, so he stepped closer, arching his back at his own sensual touches, pressing his soft lips together before showing his pouting smirk,

“Would you like me to take these off, Daddy?”

Eames froze. That question, that simple little question asked so _very_ innocently, had Eames stunned to say the least. He expected a ‘sir’, maybe even another ‘Mr’ thrown in here and there, but ‘ _Daddy_ ’? Never would he have anticipated to be called such a thing by the man before him, whose own touch was trailing the contours of his body, sighing through each voluptuous pass of his hands.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t into it.

After his momentary shock has rescinded itself, he reclined further back into the chair, feeling the soft velvet beneath his fingertips and he ran his hand up and down the arm.

“Yes.” He said laconically, nipping at his bottom lip with his teeth, studying Robert’s movements as his hips continued to move to the rhythm, his fingers playing with the zipper on his trousers, preparing himself to unfasten it.

“How much do you want me to take them off, hm?” He teased, moving just a little bit closer to him, batting his dark eyelashes.

The vibrancy of the light made his eyes shine even brighter.

“Very much so, Robert… You’d make Daddy so proud doing this…”

Robert giggled at that, finally working them open, slipping them off his hips and down those smooth thighs until they fell on their own to pool at his ankles. He stepped out of them and the heavy silk of his shirt dropped down, still keeping his underwear obscured from Eames’ sight.

His hands resumed stoking his legs as he danced, his eye contact unfaltering with Eames, mouthing out a few of the particularly suggestive lyrics at him, seeing that its effects were not lost on the man; his eyes gawking, his legs spreading, his lips gaping as he watched in awe of the beautiful specimen before him.

“Does Daddy like that?” Robert teased as he rose the end of his silken shirt, exposing his midriff ever so slightly, showing the slight bulge his little cock made in his underwear; tight panties matching the shade of his shirt.

Eames could only nod, no piece of language able to do the scene justice, and as Robert took another step forward, close enough that Eames could touch him, he extended his hand onto his tie. Then he pulled.

Eames jolted forward with the tug, looking up with shock at those same, dazzling eyes. Robert smiled as the pause drew out, enjoying the way Eames was so clearly lusting over him, desperate and enraptured by his performance.

“Take that shirt off.” He demanded, and Robert obeyed, feeling his tie all the way down until he reached the end and let go, moving backwards to do what was requested of him, his fingers making quick work of the buttons, unveiling inch by inch more and more skin before it hung open, the heavy fabric slipping between his fingers as he caressed it. 

But, even when exposed to the beauty that was Robert’s torso, Eames couldn’t help but let his entire focus fall on his crotch. His eyes would have stayed there too if not for Robert returning his knee between his legs. He knelt above him, his innocent, doe eyes blinking.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr Eames…” He murmured, barely audible above the music, “Because your friends out there payed the premium fee for this hour… Were you aware of that?”

“Well, I didn’t even know that they’d hired you so...” He bit his lip and leched, watching the man arch towards him, the shirt falling off of his limbs and onto the floor by Eames’ feet.

“Touch me, Daddy…”

Eames wasn’t going to deny that offer any time soon and so raised his hand to brush against Robert’s hip, smoothing it over the skin to pass ever so gently across his dick inside his underwear.

“Now, are you going to tell me what your premium service entails, hm?” He asked, increasing the pressure he was putting on him as he stroked up and down his crotch, the man’s breath hitching at the sensation.

“Let me show you..”

And his body slinked down onto his knees, hands lingering across his chest and down to the fastening on his trousers.

Eames froze yet again, though he didn’t say anything, because if this beautiful man with his beautiful mouth was going to look at him with his beautiful eyes as he took his cock deep into his throat, he wasn’t about to protest a single word against it.

Robert’s hands rubbed at him gently before taking him out of his underwear, retrieving it out to gasp at its size, looking up to express his joy.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” Eames asked, readier than ever for him to commence. 

Robert barely nodded before he stuffed it into his mouth, pushing it right into his throat without any struggle. And, if the sensation wasn’t already brilliant enough, Robert did indeed look up at him with those eyes, managing to enunciate a ‘Daddy’ around his considerable length with a moan for good measure. 

It didn’t take long for Eames to stiffen between those hot, wet cheeks, and Robert worked him with all his fervour, bobbing his mouth up and down, dragging his lips tightly around his skin with each descent, and Eames could hardly keep his hands at his sides any longer; they raked through the man’s locks as he made his delectable work, pushing him further down, saliva trickling down as he opened wide to let its entirety inside of him.

He hummed as it hit the back of his throat, no choke or gag threatening to rise within him when those lips closed back around him tightly, sucking with his ascent. After he rose back up, his hand took it in a pumping rhythm, slicked with his spit and the gloss transferred from his lips. His tongue offered a single pass across the leaking slit.

“Come in my mouth, Daddy, I want to taste it…” He said, jerking him while his lips returned to the head, tongue swirling in circles before going right back down again, letting those strong, forceful hands in his hair tug and pull at him to his own pleasure.

“You want it, yeah?” 

Robert nodded with his bobs, and the second the head reached as far down his throat as it could go, Eames finished with minimal groaning, his ejaculate spilling on his tongue for him to lap it up and swallow cleanly.

His mouth smiled as soon as it was taken away from Eames’ cock, and he did him the courtesy of tucking it back away into his trousers before standing back up, brushing his hand across his mouth to wipe away his own saliva.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Mr Eames?” He said, bending down the pick up his trousers and dig through the pockets.

“Of course I did, that was… that was something else indeed…” Eames said, exhaling with a deep sigh and reclining his head onto the back of the chair.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Robert smiled at he retrieved his lip gloss, reapplying it to his lips, “Now, by my time, we should have about thirty minutes of your time left…” He let his glance shift to the champagne, “Would you like some assistance finishing off that bottle?”

“I’d love it.”

Half an hour later, Eames emerged from the private room, buttoning up his suit jacket as he left to return to the booth, where he was met with a joyous cheer from his friends.

“Did you enjoy it? Did he put on a good show?!” Cobb asked him first as he shifted himself into his seat beside Arthur, smiling just as wide as he was the moment he set his eyes on Robert.

“Yes, and can I just say, boys, that the premium fee you payed did _not_ go unappreciated!” He raised yet another glass of drink to his lips and swallowed it down in celebration.

“Premium?” Yusuf asked, confused, “We couldn’t afford that, mate, that was upwards of a thousand, wasn’t it?”

The other two nodded in confirmation, and Eames only smirked.

“Well, all there is to say is that I am a _very_ lucky man…”

They all looked at one another, silently clocking what Eames meant and what its implications were, wondering if they misheard due to the volume of the music, but instead of making him concerned about this sudden revelation to them, his eyes caught sight of Robert walking past the bar, having just left the private room and was presumably on his way to the exit.

His shirt was tucked neatly back into his trousers and his hair fixed back into a perfect style. Beautiful.

And, as he stared, by pure chance, Robert turned his head to glance over at their booth, making brief eye contact to finally finish their interaction with a coy little smile.

“Very lucky indeed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, check me out on [Tumblr](https://100dabbo.tumblr.com/)! :)


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